


Not A Single One of Us

by mamalovesherbagels



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: but they respond to a shooting, hen and chim friendship to the max, mentions of maddie buckley, no depiction of violence but talk of blood, no description of the team at the actual scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-25
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:35:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24379579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mamalovesherbagels/pseuds/mamalovesherbagels
Summary: It’s not an easy call for any of them. Bobby hasn’t been to an AA meeting in months but lets Athena know their date night will have to be postponed because he needs to get to one. Hen FaceTimes Karen, Denny, and Nia on the ride back to the station. Eddie immediately heads over to punching bags at the firehouse gym, and Buck lets himself openly cry. Chimney just stares.
Relationships: Howie "Chimney" Han & Henrietta "Hen" Wilson
Comments: 5
Kudos: 45





	Not A Single One of Us

It’s not an easy call for any of them.

Bobby hasn’t been to an AA meeting in months but lets Athena know their date night will have to be postponed because he needs to get to one. Hen FaceTimes Karen, Denny, and Nia on the ride back to the station. Eddie immediately heads over to punching bags at the firehouse gym, and Buck lets himself openly cry.

Chimney just stares.

Everyone is so caught up in their own heads and emotions and fears that the first “where’s Chimney?” doesn’t come for an hour.

There’s a shrug and a few nonchalant looks, because really, it’s a firehouse. He has to be here somewhere. 

“I checked the bunks,” is what Hen says when she can see what’s going to come out of Bobby’s mouth before he says it.

“Is he sick?” Buck asks a moment later, “rough call. I know it doesn’t happen to him all that often but if anything was gonna do it, my guess would be a shooting would be it.”

“That’s what I thought, too, but no,” Hen shakes her head again, “unless he’s hiding somewhere other than the bathroom to puke.”

“Chim?” Bobby calls in his loud, authoritative captain voice, “Chim, where are you, buddy?”

He hears it, sort of. His brain recognizes that there’s noise in the background but he doesn’t process it. Doesn’t realize it’s his name that’s been called or that it’s Bobby’s voice that is calling it.

“Eddie, check the showers,” Bobby orders, kicking himself for not taking a mental account of everyone once they arrived back at the station, “Buck, check--”

“You looking for Han?” a voice booms from the first level of the loft, “He’s still on the truck. I walked by and saw him.”

“Still on the… Hen, let’s go,” Bobby says quickly, and he doesn’t have to tell her twice, both of them descending the stairs as fast as they would if they heard the bell go off.

“Hey, Chim,” Bobby murmurs, wincing at the memory of him using the same words as he poked his head into Chimney’s car after his rebar accident, again feeling like he has no idea what to expect, “what’s going on, buddy?”

“Chimney?” Hen prompts, climbing into the truck a second behind their captain.

He’s just sitting… and staring. There’s no emotion betrayed in his eyes or on his face, just a stunning lack of it. It’s almost as if he’s not really there, as if his soul and spirit had both left his body, leaving behind just his physical shell.

“Chim, buddy, look at me.”

He doesn’t.

“Chimney. Howard,” Hen commands, “look at me. Right now.”

He doesn’t.

“Cap,” Hen sighs, “can I have a few minutes alone with him? And you should probably tell Buck to call Maddie.”

Bobby wordlessly nods, lightly squeezing Chimney’s shoulder before he leaves. He almost wishes he had startled Chimney by touching him- as much as he doesn’t want to scare his friend, any reaction is starting to feel preferable to the continued non-reaction. But alas, Chimney doesn’t flinch.

“It’s just you and me now, Chim,” Hen starts slowly, “just us. You and your best friend and… oh. Oh, there’s still blood on you, sweetheart. Can I clean that up for you?”

He doesn’t answer, and Hen’s hesitant to leave him alone, but watching him, just seeing him mindlessly sitting there covered in somebody’s, probably a dead person’s, blood is just too much for her heart to bear.

She runs as quickly as she can to the bathroom and back and as worried as she was that he would move while she was gone, she still finds herself disappointed that he hasn’t.

“I’m going to touch you, okay?” she warns, despite figuring that he probably isn’t listening to her in the slightest, “I’m going to use these towels to clean you up, Chim.”

When she brings a wet towel to his face, he looks at her. Sort of. His eyes find her face but it seems as if he’s looking right through her. 

“Hi,” she says anyway, “Hi, Chim. I’ve got you.”

It’s not until she pulls the towel back that he snaps back into his body. When he sees it. The blood. And he realizes.

He looks down.

He’s still covered in innocent, maimed and murdered people’s blood. This is real. It happened. He was there. There’s blood on him. It’s not a nightmare.

“Oh my… blood,” he gasps, hands on his face, then on his shirts, then in his lap, realizing it’s all over him.

“I know, I know,” Hen says calmly, hand on his shoulder, “sweetheart, I’m cleaning it off you then we can get you in some clean clothes. It’s going to be alright.”

“Blood,” he chokes, gasping again and scratching at his arms.

“Chimney, Chimney, breathe. In and out for me.”

“Blood, dead. I-I--I can’t… oh my--”

“I’m here, I’m here,” she assures him desperately, “Chimney, I’m right here. Look me in the eye, okay? I’ve got you. You’re panicking and I need you to--”

“Hen, no,” he whimpers, hyperventilating and leaving more scratch marks on his arms, “no, I… blood. I can’t…”

“Hey, hey,” she coos, grabbing onto both his shoulders now, “Chimney, honey, sweetheart--”

To her credit, she doesn’t even flinch when he throws up on himself. She had seen it coming from the second he had realized he was covered in blood.

“I… god,” he whimpers a moment later, breathing finally starting to even out the slightest bit.

“It’s okay,” Hen says as soothingly as she can, “it’s okay, Chim, I was cleaning you up anyways.”

“I’m not… God, I’m not ten…”

“But I have a ten year old, it’s fine,” she jokes lightly, “it’s fine, you’re fine. I’ve got you.”

“I can’t… I’m not… I can’t be here,” he whines in a frighteningly small voice, “wantogohome.”

“Let me finish cleaning the blood and puke off your face, then you can hit the showers and by then your girlfriend will probably be here to take you home.”

“Maddie?” is all he says, but Hen can read the question behind it.

“Bobby told Buck to call her when we realized you had just been sitting here still and silent for the better part of an hour.”

“Oh.”

“Oh,” she can’t help but laugh, patting his face with a level of tenderness generally reserved for Denny, “are you… are you going to be okay by yourself in the shower?”

“Hen,” he blushes, feeling fifteen waves of embarrassment rushing through him at once, “I’m forty-three and--”

“And your best friend is a lesbian and also a fully grown adult who can handle sitting outside the shower facing the other way if you feel like you might need someone.”

“What exactly am I walking back into?” Bobby questions, carefully poking his head back in, “ah, I see.”

“I’m fine,” Chimney groans, a sentiment which is undercut by how badly he’s shaking, and the two different kinds of bodily fluids he is covered in.

“You’re not,” Bobby amends kindly, “do you want me or Hen standing outside the stall while you shower?”

“...Hen,” he sighs after a moment, though really he would prefer to sink into the ground and never have anyone look at him ever again.

Technically, there’s a designated mens and a designated womens showering area, but it’s Hen and Chimney and they’re all a family, and on a day like this where everyone is shaken up everyone couldn’t care less.

Hen makes about twenty different “I’m gay so this is fine” jokes while she’s standing guard, and it does make him feel a little better, if only the teensiest bit.

“How come everyone else is able to handle this fine and I’m the only one having a complete breakdown over it?” he asks, water still running.

“You are NOT the only one having a hard time with this,” she insists, and even though he can’t physically see it he knows what expression her face is making, “we all handle things differently; that doesn’t mean everyone else is unaffected because what you see on the outside is different how you’re reacting to it. You just… you don’t really know what to do with things, Chim. You just internalize it all. Until it makes you sick, literally. Sick and catatonic and scaring the hell out of all of us. But trust me, none of us are feeling good about what we all saw out there today. Not a single one of us.”

“I just… I don’t understand why these things happen,” he whimpers a minute later, well aware that he’s sounding like a little kid again.

“I don’t think anyone does, sweetheart,” Hen responds, grateful that he can’t see the tears leaking from her eyes, “I know I have no explanation for what happened. And the gunman's dead, so we’ll never get to hear it from him.”

“I’m gonna have a kid,” he finds himself saying, and it’s not how he planned on telling her but nothing about this day has gone as expected, “Maddie’s pregnant, Hen. I’m gonna have a kid.”

“It’s harder when you have a kid,” she sighs, “it’s all harder when you have a kid. The horribleness of life, the unfairness, the scary parts… it’s all harder to deal with when you know your own kid is out there in the world with all of it, too.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“Congratulations, though.”

“Am I going to be able to do it? Be a dad? I mean, if this… if something like this just… breaks me…”

“Chim. I’d be far more concerned for your kid if something like this could happen and you just didn’t even bat an eye. It’s not a bad thing to feel and it’s not a bad thing to let other people know that you’re feeling. You wouldn’t want to raise an emotionless robot, now would you?”

“I guess not,” he agrees halfheartedly.

“You’re going to have an amazing kid, and you’re going to be an amazing dad. For many reasons, but especially because of how big your heart is. You might feel more pain sometimes but that’s just because you have a bigger capacity for love than some people do. You hurt because you care. That’s not a bad thing, Chim.”

“I love you, Henrietta.”

“I love you, too, Han. Forever. Now, when should I be expecting my godchild to make their entrance into the world?”


End file.
